Heartless Romantic
by BlondieLocks
Summary: ...foreheads would scrape, eyelashes would clash, noses would bump, skin would kiss skin, and lips would brush lips. She was dormant, however, and he would not dare tread any closer to her face than he already was... Oneshot IchiRukia


A/N: Hi again, I'm going to have to keep this A/N short because it's very late. Basically it's an Ichi/Rukia oneshot I've been wanting to write for a very longtime. The last person to have reviewed my Morning Orbit story actually got me started, soreally this is thanks to you. Forgive me for not remembering your name at the moment, but if you're reading this thanks for the inspiration! Anyway, read on!

Discalimer: Often times I wish I did own Bleach, but then I think about how horrible it would turn out. So no, I do not own it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The pint sized, pixie stick, who could on occasion seem as intoxicating as the actual crystalline sugar tubes, Ichigo came to know and grieve over as Kuchiki Rukia, notoriously referred to as the Goddess of death, had finally been restored to his very own, tangible universe through a highly intimidating vortex of doom where she rightly belonged.

_Does she belong here?_ It was a question Kurosaki Ichigo was not foreign with, and in fact pondered much too often for his own good. He didn't like thinking about it, he held a genuine hatred for the thought which graced his mind with its antagonizing presence each and every night he was forced to silently suffer under his covers as he intently burned holes through his closet door. He was restless beyond what any cure could do for him and worried to the point where it was a threat to his own health. Rukia, though, was someone who thrust herself into his world just as abruptly as she pulled herself out of it, it was a comparable feeling to dousing boiling water on a frost-bitten windshield. The same as the glass would shatter, Ichigo felt as though he was splintered into just as many pieces, the lines of his reality and her fantasy colliding with such extreme force caused everything in Ichigo's world to bled and mesh with each other, blurring any boundaries that could keep his feet grounded to any type of sanity. Despite however fast their relationship was developed, Ichigo felt far from implored to take anymore time out to know that if Rukia ever left him, his world would be even more imperfect and flawed than it already was.

This was why when Rukia had, willingly, stayed behind in Soul Society as opposed to running away with Ichigo and seeking refuge in his bedroom closet as he, in some very adolescent part of his soul, had sincerely hoped for, it hurt more than when she was out of his grasp. Hearing her proclaim her desire to stay in a world that would keep the two of them apart compared to her being forced into it jabbed him in ways he honestly didn't think he could bruise. It was worse than any type of physical damage he ever had to endure because it was emotional affliction and those are the wounds that can drive people to the brink of a certain type of psychosis.

That's why when Rukia did come back, he still questioned if she belonged here, with him, or if she even wanted to belong. She had, after all, volunteered herself to stay within those realms she had grown up in, it wasn't an implausible idea that she may just want to return. Rukia and Ichigo were an unlikely, mismatched pair from the start, so what would make this storybook ending any different?

Ichigo's closet door, _her _closet door, was shut. He looked at it as almost a sort of barrier blockading him from ever seeing her again. After the incident with Soul Society, after having lost Rukia twice, if he couldn't visually perceive her petite silhouette his heart would reverberate in his chest with miniscule pangs of anxiety and he feared her fairy sized body would drain from the hole in his wall and fill up the realms from where she came. She aged him beyond his teen years and deluged a bucket of problems upon his shoulders he never wanted, but now that he's been faced with the qualms of the world, trading them in would mean trading in Rukia, and that he could never do

She was sleeping he presumed, soundly by the soft panting of her breath in which he could follow the pattern of her heaving in and out. He couldn't sleep though, he couldn't render himself to the demons of the night and cooperatively fall victim to a comatose state of mind. Since Rukia left, and even upon her return, something was off, even though she was back it was asif only her material being came back to him and her spiritual form refused to leave Soul Society. She never appeared as though she could rest easy anymore, and that stirred up a relentless spirit in Ichigo.

The sound of the closet door sliding open had magnified considerably in the quiet which pervaded Ichigo's room, it sliced through the tranquil atmosphere created by Rukia's melancholy noises she made every now and then and sounded like an alarm set off within the walls of a cathedral. She didn't wake, however, and instead remained in the slumber that robbed her of consciousness.

He felt strange watching her like that, and didn't even want to think of all the different ways he was betraying that ever so untouchable reputation he had strived to achieve from young. The words that would be said and the teasing that would be thrown at him, but none of it mattered because it was during a time in the night in which he didn't have to pretend for anyone. No one was watching, not even Rukia.

_She doesn't smile anymore._

He couldn't prevent himself from thinking this, but it was true. Her powdered white skin was always stiff with a strict, alert demeanor, as though she were frightened of something. Her eyebrows mimicked his far too often for his liking in resembling his own knitted and furrowed brows, as though she were in constant fret over something, and her cherry tinted lips contorted its muscles no more to form Rukia's ever so rare smile. She imitated that of a blank canvas just waiting to be washed over with vibrant colours.

Ichigo couldn't really account for the actions he would take next, but before he could gather his jumble of thoughts to form a solid picture he found himself on his knees in a position that was reminiscent to a person in deep prayer. His hands were clutched tightly together and he knelt slightly hunched over the motionless Rukia who, even in sleep, wore a face of either stoicism or trepidation. Their heads were close enough that if she were to make a sudden movement foreheads would scrape, eyelashes would clash, noses would bump, skin would kiss skin, and lips would brush lips. She was dormant, however, and he would not dare tread any closer to her face than he already was.

His tightly clasped hands and bowing stance was symbolic for his praying for her recovery. Kuchiki Rukia wasn't sick nor was she the missing puzzle piece from his conundrum. Kurosaki Ichigo was praying for her happiness, which was just as important as her physical well-being, not only to her, but to him as well. If she wasn't happy, he could only pretend so much.

The little space left between Rukia and Ichigo slowly became an awakward spot to be comfortably situated in. The air that lingered in the crease was limited, restricted to closet circulation which eventually grew to consist of a combination of Ichigo and Rukia's breath. Without realizing it, they were smothering each other as both their essences intertwined to become one, causing Rukia to wearily peel her eyelids apart only to find a very drowsy Ichigo hovering inches above her face.

"What… are you doing?" She asked skeptically, easing her way out from under his body and jamming herself between the corner of the closet, watching with interest as Ichigo sprang to life again and, with some amusement now that she was acquainting herself with reality, as scarlet hues tainted his face and turned it the colour of a cherry blossom.

"You were… making… noises." He combated her accusation on his intentions with a lame excuse poorly thought out by a flustered boy overtaken with particular emotions that are especially hard to keep stabilized with a young girl sleeping in his closet.

Rukia, wide awake now and highly entertained by his bumbling, could only produce a smirk, which was intended only for herself.

"What kind of noises?" The scarlet turned to a red wine colour and tinted his already pink cheeks with deeper and deeper shades, the colour battling it out with his fierce looking orange hair.

"Stop reading those horrible manga books, your mind's in the gutter." He again retorted, standing up and retreating to his bed.

"And yours isn't?" She scoffed back, loud enough for Ichigo to hear but not as dominant for him to make it out clearly.

"Shut up, go to bed." He said, turning over in his bed and forcefully pulling the covers up over his head.

"I was sleeping, but you woke me up! Besides, you must have been having a slight case of insomnia as well if you had to stand over me just to lull yourself to sleep. Am I that boring to look at?" Ichigo sat up again, and as his body sat erect his orbs latched onto Rukia's body and refused to let go. Her legs were hanging limply over the cushions he piled on top of each other so as to make up her sleeping quarters and her hair was disheveled, but despite her lacking in the glamour department, Ichigo couldn't imagine his bedroom without her tiny existence residing in it alongside of him.

He sighed in that annoying voice he used to tell Rukia he was agitated with her and wished she'd just silence herself before he had to buy her a muzzle, but that only bothered her more and so he opened his mouth before she could beat him to it.

"I can't sleep."

"Neither can I." He wasn't expecting a response at all, least of all that, and if anything something more related to,

"Well then I'll make you sleep." But he was wrong and she surprised him. He didn't believe she could authentically send him into slight shock, but she managed to do it even after they discovered so much about each other.

"Why not?"

"Bad dreams."

"Me too." It was out in the open, they both said it, and neither one of them had tragically experienced a premature demise due to a blow to their pride. It was an honest night with raw emotions running high. To outsiders, admitting to nightmares was nothing to worry over, but to them, it was a big step in their relationship. Their nightmares were different, they were personal and hard to talk about, they didn't have to specify what they dreamt of because it was simply understood, and even that took a lot.

_Maybe that's why she stopped smiling?_

"Rukia, make me happy and go to bed okay?" He told her on a lighter note as he turned over once again and attempted to fall victim to the dark.

"Okay." She responded, but he never heard the door clambering about and making that horrible commotion it makes during the middle of the night, only very light tapping. That's when he felt it, after only a short few silent seconds, his bed sunk only by an inch or so and he could feel Rukia swiftly lifting her legs over his body and crawling up to him as a cat would. Her hair tickled his arms as she picked one up and stealthily placed it over her delicate form. He was in too much of a state of stupor to object, and even if he wasn't, he couldn't be so confident in his wanting to stop her.

"What… are you doing?" It was his turn to ask the question, hesitant she might turn around and attack him for touching her.

"You said 'make you happy and go to sleep,' so I thought this would make you happy _and_ I'd be going to sleep."

"What makes you think I'd be happy because-"

"Shut up Ichigo, this makes me happy, so just sleep already!" Her back fit perfectly against his chest, and her light breathing was in synchronization with the harsh and ungraceful movements of his own body. Her tiny structure complimented his rough build so well it almost hurt to think of himself embracing anyone but Rukia. They were so drastically different it was only logical that they gravitated towards each other as much as they did.

He became less tense and almost immediately learned the right spot to place his overly large palm against her lower belly and instinctively buried his nose within her heaping mass of jet black her. He had never felt so comfortable with holding something his whole life and never had anything come this easy to him, as though his subconscious was waiting for Rukia to find him.

He knew tomorrow everything would revert back to its old ways, she would by habit, kick, scream, perhaps even bite him without feeling the slightest bit of attachment to him and he would curse, yell, and throw things around his room without wondering if they could ever be more than what they are. However, he had one last request from Rukia before the morning, which now felt too close, would dawn, and it was imperative that he ask this of her as they were at that moment, as they were in such a beautiful equilibrium.

"Rukia," He murmured half asleep, nudging her side with his elbow so she would turn and face him while still in his hold.

"What?" She huffed out, wanting the sleep she was able to finally find in his arms, needing it.

"Please smile again." The colour rising to his face again would have been more than obvious had there been proper light and had Rukia had all her sense about her, but being submersed in immense dark and the ecstasy Rukia was sent on from being held in Ichigo's arms was a mixture that made for her to simply take it as an honest-to-God plea from the young boy she knew she had fallen for since the day they met.

He didn't think his words reached her through the veil of sleep draped over her head, and instead pressed closer to her, savouring the moment before it was gone. Both of them would never act this way again, let alone even remember it. It was just one of those nights when irreversible things happen no matter how out of character they may seem. No one would have to know of their intimacy which is why it makes it so much easier to pretend as though it never happened, which was why it was so much easier to _let _it happen in the first place, because it could be erased just as easily as it was created. For the time being, though, it existed, and Ichigo didn't want to let it go.

Finally, Ichigo's sleep abnormality ceased and the waves of darkness washed over him, dragging him under its spell and allowing him to finally rest. Rukia, between the world of dream and reality, could faintly make out his realized breathing, and in knowing he too found a temporary peace, very briefly allowed a smile to grace her face before she was, as well, pulled by the gravitational lures of a night without nightmares.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A/N: Please be forgiving with the typos if any, it's 2:32 in the morning and just the sound of my typing might wake me parents. Anyway, I have one thing to request of you lovely reviewers, please don't write telling me they are out of character, I already know this is not how Rukia and Ichigo act, but it was a private moment in the middle of the night when no body but themselvs were around and I figured even tey must have they're weak moments, right? Anyway, that's it, any other flames are welcomed and so is criticisim. Please don't be shy to review, and thanks so much for reading!


End file.
